Promises Made With Cracks
by Vicky-V
Summary: There was a time where they could make promises to each other and believe them. Then it was all taken away. YgrainexHunith pre-series oneshot.


**Ship:** YgrainexHunith

**Rating:** PG

**Notes:** Femmeslash, strong hints of rape, character death. Written before 2x13 aired.

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing in connection with BBC's Merlin, nor do I make any money writing this fanfiction.

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**Promises Made With Cracks**

There are some days when Hunith is the only one Ygraine allows near her. Hunith takes medicines from her brother, Gaius, to Ygraine, which are made to stop the discomfort of carrying a child and ease the morning sickness which sometimes makes her body shudder into the early afternoon. Ygraine has Hunith stay with her and asks her to share the gossip of the court and the servants as Hunith tidies her lady's room, makes her bed and tends to the fireplace if wanted. She knows Hunith is selective in what she tells her. The subject of Nimueh and how she was with both the king and queen a lot, perhaps too much, at the time of conception is always dodged around. Instead Hunith shares the whispers of the affairs of lords and ladies which pass through the kitchens, the washing rooms and the stables. The stories twist and change with each mouth which tell them and Hunith shares every version she knows. Ygraine sits and listens attentively. Sometimes she is upset that Hunith won't say what the court thinks of her but she always manages to understand why.

When Hunith finishes cleaning, Ygraine holds out her hair brush and asks for her hair to be braided. She likes the way Hunith does it and asks for her to weave in ribbons and flowers. They make her feel beautiful again and not the swollen mess she can feel herself becoming day by day.

She won't tell Hunith that last part. Just as Hunith is selective in the news she tells her. They both want to spare each other the hurt; both know it and both never speak of it. It aches sometimes but, somehow, that's just fine.

Hunith's touch at her hair is gentle. While she brushes away the tangles, she manages to pull at them with only the slightest sting which is there for barely half a moment and then gone before Ygraine can properly feel it. As requested, she weaves in the ribbons, ones which match the dress Ygraine wears. She slips in the flowers she picked for her mistress just that morning.

As she feels Hunith's gentle touch, Ygraine is the one who speaks. She shares her doubts and her fears with Hunith. She asks the same questions over and over again. They both know how much Uther wants a son, one who will grow into a proud and strong king and take Camelot from strength to strength. But what if her body dares to betray that and give him a daughter instead, Ygraine asks. She imagines the disappointment and scorn on Uther's face as he is presented with his daughter before he turns away and Ygraine can barely stand it. It causes her to shake and cry, so much Hunith has to stop what she's doing or Ygraine's hair will be ruined. She walks round the chair Ygraine sits in so she may drop to her knees and brush the tears away from the face of her mistress. The very sight of them makes Hunith's chest squeeze painfully and she can feel her own tears burn in her eyes. Most of the time she is able to hold them back for the sake of her mistress but sometimes they slip out. During those times Hunith always makes sure to plant a soft, comforting kiss to Ygraine's forehead or hold her close.

Even if she does give birth to a son, Ygraine still has her fears. What if she isn't able to raise him into the prince and then the king Camelot needs? What if something goes wrong? What if something happens and she ends up killing the baby before he can take his first proper breath or open his eyes to take his first look at the world around him. She doesn't want that. She doesn't want for her body to do anything which will kill the baby she is finally able to carry.

While she cries, Hunith holds her close and runs her fingers through her hair, being careful to not pull out the braid, ribbons and flowers. Ygraine would want for those to stay. Hunith strokes her cheek, rocks her gently back and forth and tells her that things will not be that way. She will give birth to a fine, healthy son. One which will make Uther proud of him and so proud of her. One which will make Camelot proud. And Ygraine. And Hunith. That son will grow into a great man because he will have the most wonderful woman in the world behind him to show him what is right and guide him in what he needs to do.

Ygraine's grip at her arms tighten but Hunith knows she believes her.

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There is one day where Hunith once again kneels in front of her mistress and is again paused from braiding Ygraine's hair in the way she loves. But this time she crosses her arms across Ygraine's lap and pushes her face into them as she sobs uncontrollably. Ygraine leans over her, hugs her, holds her close and rubs her back to try and soothe her, even just a little.

She's seen the way Hunith's behaviour has changed, even though Hunith does her best to hide it and pretend everything is just as it was. But they know each other too well by now. They know what the inclinations of their heads mean, why their eyes are as narrow or wide as they are sometimes, the reasons behind the hold of their shoulders and how much the tone of voice is really able to reveal. So it's no wonder that Ygraine has seen how Hunith throws herself into her work and is somehow able to make even more of a good job of it than she always has done, (which Ygraine always considered to be perfect). She cleans everything, inside every crack and every groove. Hunith puts her full attention into it, so much so that Ygraine needs to physically pull her away before she gets her attention. Hunith flinches at the touch and Ygraine sees the flash of fear in her eyes which is only there for the briefest moment. But it is there and so large, so intense, it makes Ygraine's heart hammer in her chest and a cold chill smashes its way through her body. Hunith's hands shake a little when Ygraine asks her to braid her hair afterwards, but she still manages to make it look so beautiful and make Ygraine feel so wonderful.

Ygraine sees how tired Hunith looks most days and how her eyes are still swollen where she has cried instead of slept. She can see how Hunith's gaze often seems so far away; sees something only she can, something she can't escape and Ygraine wants to ask Hunith to take her there as well. Maybe there is something she can do. But she doesn't ask because she knows that can't happen.

Then the cracks spread, became wider and Hunith broke. She cries tears which seem endless and then tries to apologise for spoiling Ygraine's dress, which she sobs into. But Ygraine won't hear of it. The dress isn't important. The dress doesn't matter. There are other dresses, but only one Hunith and so she is the important one.

They sit there for a long, long time. Hunith cries into her, grips at Ygraine as tightly as she dares and her shoulders jolt as large sobs tear through her. Ygraine holds her, strokes her hair, rubs her back, whispers words of comfort into her ear. She is here for her and nothing between them will ever seep beyond the walls of Ygraine's chambers. Just as always.

Hunith is pregnant. That's what she eventually manages to tell Ygraine, who feels a spike of joy at first. But then it goes and leaves something cold and empty inside her when she hears Hunith cry again and sees her tears.

That is all Hunith tells her. She mentions nothing of who the father is or where. Ygraine doesn't ask. She just continues to hold her and soothe her, and knows she's telling Hunith in her own silent way that when she's ready to talk then she is ready to listen.

What she does tell Hunith is that the child is sure to be a good person. He or she will be Hunith's child, therefore there is no doubt about that. Ygraine will help her and Hunith will help Ygraine. Their children will grow up together, and on this matter she doesn't care what Uther may have to stay about it. They will grow up together, into good, strong people who will bring pride to both Camelot and their mothers. Ygraine is sure of it. She promises Hunith and Hunith believed her.

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Ygraine breaks her promise but Hunith doesn't hate her for it. It isn't in her to hate, especially when it came to Ygraine because she loves her so much she can never find the words to describe it or the way it makes her heart clench and flutter. She can't find a name which feels right for the way Ygraine would catch her eye, wherever they were, and give her a smile which was secret, which nobody knew the meaning of except for them. She didn't know which force of nature drew them together and had Ygraine hold her throughout the night and press them together so flesh moulded into flesh.

All those memories rush and swirl around her mind, show themselves for one teasing moment and give Hunith just enough time to realise what they are before they leave again. They keep hitting her, again and again, until Hunith can't see where she's going because she cries so much. It hurts to have to turn her back on Camelot and go against the request, the practical begging, of her brother to stay. It hurts so much it makes her heart shred itself and rip a burning hole in her chest.

Hunith can't stay. A Camelot without Ygraine isn't one she can face. As she rides away with nothing but the clothes on her back and a small bundle of provisions, she vaguely hopes she will find somewhere kind enough to take in a pregnant woman who will not be willing to tell her story. But most of all she hopes Ygraine knows somehow that she has given Uther the son who will make him so proud.

Arthur. Ygraine loved that name and Hunith is glad Uther listened.

He will grow into a good man. Because he is Ygraine's son. But Hunith tries not to think about it because it hurts so much she feels she will die any moment from the pain.

Hunith tries not to think about it. But Ygraine was her life so she just can't help it.

_**END**_


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